ime. I have
a surprise for you."

Stella asked him what it was and he answered:

"There's a house for sale in Great Beeding. I think that you
would like it."

Stella's face softened with a smile.

"Anywhere, Dick," she said, "anywhere on earth."

"But here best of all," he answered. "Not to run away--that's our policy.
We'll make our home in our own south country. I arranged to take you over
the house between half-past five and six this evening."

They walked across to Little Beeding and were made welcome by Mr.
Hazlewood. He came out to meet them in the garden and nervousness made
him kittenish and arch.

"How are you, Stella?" he inquired. "But there's no need to ask. You look
charming and upon my word you grow younger every day. What a pretty hat!
Yes, yes! Will you make tea while I telephone to the Pettifers? They seem
to be late."

He skipped off with an alacrity which was rather ridiculous. But Stella
watched him go without any amusement.

"I am taken again into favour," she said doubtfully.

"That shouldn't distress you, Stella," replied Dick.

"Yet it does, for I ask myself why. And I don't understand this
tea-party. Mr. Hazlewood was so urgent that I should not forget it.
Perhaps, however, I am inventing trouble."

She shook herself free from her apprehensions and followed Dick into the
drawing-room, where the kettle was boiling and the tea-service spread
out. Stella went to the table and opened the little mahogany caddy.

"How many are coming, Dick?" she asked.

"The Pettifers."

"My enemies," said Stella, laughing lightly.

"And you and my father and myself."

"Five altogether," said Stella. She began to measure out the tea into the
tea-pot but stopped suddenly in the middle of her work.

"But there are six cups," she said. She counted them again to make sure,
and at once her fears were reawakened. She turned to Dick, her face quite
pale and her big eyes dark with forebodings. So little now was needed to
disquiet her. "Who is the sixth?"

Dick came closer to her and put his arm about her waist.

"I don't know," he said gently; "but what can it matter to us, Stella?
Think, my dear!"

"No, of course," she replied, "it can't make any difference," and she
dipped her teaspoon once more into the caddy. "But it's a little
curious, isn't it?--that your father didn't mention to you that there
was another guest?"

"Oh, wait a moment," said Dick. "He did tell me there would be some
visitor